The Day My Relationships Felt Too Loud

Day 11 — December 4, 2025

Today was difficult in a way I’ve never experienced before. Not because something catastrophic happened, but because I happened. All at once. In too many directions. On emotional frequencies I haven’t learned how to translate yet.

I woke up thinking about my relationships. Not abstractly. Not nostalgically. But urgently like they were knocking on the inside of my ribs. I thought about my best friends. About the people who carried me, steadied me, sat in the dark with me without asking for a flashlight. I thought about Roger, who somehow knows when I’m unraveling before I do. I thought about the person I like…really like…and how the thought of that person brings me joy and panic in the same inhale. And the way that makes me smile.

And suddenly every relationship felt too close and too far at the same time. Like I’m here but not fully. Present but blurred around the edges. Grateful but aware I’ve been distant, distracted, difficult.

I kept thinking, Have I let them down? My people. My circle. The ones who didn’t flinch when everything fell apart. I’m wondering how those people will receive all of this.

How do I tell them I’m here again? How do I tell them I’m grateful in a way that doesn’t sound like an apology? How do I show up when I’ve been stitched together with trauma and hope and caffeine for weeks? And there’s the one I like. The person I like in that dangerous, exhilarating, terrifying way that makes me overthink every molecule of my existence.

I spiraled through al of it: the insecurities, the fears, the what-ifs, the tenderness I’m scared to hand over, the longing I’m scared to feel, the desire not to lose something that hasn’t even fully begun. Why does attraction feel like its own kind of emotional earthquake? Why does liking someone turn me into a philosopher, a worrier, a poet, and a disaster all in the same hour?

I want to be close. But everything is so complicated right now. Healing, trauma, legal processes, my own identity shifting under my feet and then here comes this person who makes my heart misbehave and my brain melt.

It’s a lot. I’m a lot.

Today felt like trying to hold all my relationships in one hand while the other is busy rebuilding myself from the inside out. And maybe that’s why it hurt in the way it did, not painfully, but truthfully.

Because I want to be better for the people I love. Because I don’t want to lose people who makes me feel things I didn’t think I’d feel again. Because I’m finally stepping up to pick up the pieces and suddenly I’m realizing some of those pieces belong to other people, too.

Today was overwhelming. Tender. Messy. Human.

A day where the people I know and love lived loudly inside my mind not accusing me, not disappointed, just present. And maybe that’s what made today so hard. Remembering that connection matters to me.
That love matters to me. That I’m still capable of wanting things that aren’t survival.

Chaos in one hand. Grace in the other.

And the people I hold close orbiting somewhere around my heart, waiting for me to catch up.